Lead Me
by Arthur-'Boo'-Radley-Lover
Summary: Lead me with strong hands Stand up when I can't Don't leave me hungry for love Chasing dreams, but what about us?Show me you're willing to fight That I'm still the love of your life I know we call this our home But I still feel alone Father,lead me JWxSH


Lead Me

The door to 221B slammed shut, the sound reverberating around the empty flat. John fell backwards onto the sofa, placing his head in his hands. Sobs ripped through his body, his form shaking with the violence of them. The argument had been stupid; he wasn't even sure what had started it any longer. All he could remember was screaming at Sherlock, telling Sherlock that if Sherlock couldn't be what John needed then he might as well get out of John's life. The sobs intensified.

xxJWxxSHxx

Sherlock stormed out of 221B, slamming the door behind him. Tears streamed down his face, dripping onto the floor as he walked, looking down at the ground. He didn't pay any attention to where he was going, automatically avoiding anyone who stepped into his path.

A bench appeared in his limited field of vision, he sank onto it heavily. He placed his head in his hands and sobbed. He cried until the tears ran dry, until he could cry no more.

xxJWxxSHxx

Sherlock sat up; reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture of John, his favourite one of the doctor.

'I always knew that it was too good to be true. I thought that I had a wonderful life, almost perfect to everyone I suppose. John, beautiful John, always smiling, but I could always hear him saying on the inside: "Lead me with strong hands. Stand up when I can't. Don't leave me hungry for love. You're always chasing dreams, but what about us? Show me you're willing to fight for me, that I'm still the love of your life. I know that we call this our home, but I still feel alone." John, oh my beautiful John! What have I done?'

Sherlock's thoughts were a whirl, flying around his head at a sickening speed. The sobs renewed: came back with a vengeance. He slumped forward, gut-wrenching sobs forcing their way through him, ripping out of his throat.

"John! Oh, John! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I can do better." The sobs wracked his body harder making speech impossible.

xxJWxxSHxx

John sat up as the sobs subsided, leaving only hitching breaths in their place. He looked around the flat, taking in its emptiness, not liking it one bit. He got unsteadily to his feet and made his way to the mantelpiece. He tenderly picked up the photograph that sat in the middle. Shaking fingers gently traced the shape of Sherlock's face, the smile that lit up his face, the tender one that he only ever shared with John. This was their shared favourite. It portrayed a sleeping John and a smiling Sherlock. Mycroft had given it to them for Christmas. John hugged it to his chest as tears once more spilled out of his eyes, down his face.

"Oh Sherlock, I'm so sorry. I should never have asked you to change. It was unfair. You are exactly what I need; you're all I've ever needed! Come back Sherlock, I can't do this without you." He fell to his knees with the force of his sobs, still clutching the photograph, as though it was his lifeline.

xxJWxxSHxx

Slowly, Sherlock's sobs lessened until he was left with only a headache, red-rimmed eyes and hitching breath. He pulled his hands away from his chest, glancing at the picture he held next to his heart.

"Oh, John! I'm sorry."

He bent his head forward, resting it on his clasped hands, on the picture and prayed. He prayed for the first time since he was twelve.

"Oh Father, give me the strength to be everything that I'm called to be. Show me the way to lead him. Won't you lead me? Father, please lead me because I can't do this alone." He stayed in that position for ages. Eventually, he got up, placed the picture back in his pocket, right above his heart, and walked back to Baker Street.

xxJWxxSHxx

John clutched the photograph to his chest, directly above his heart. He began to pray. He prayed with a passion that he hadn't felt since Afghanistan.

"Father, I'm so sorry about all the things I said to Sherlock, please bring him back to me. I need him; I can't do this without him. I love him so much! Please, bring him back to me. Please." He stayed curled up on the floor, clutching the photograph to him until he heard the door of 221B open.

xxJWxxSHxx

Sherlock quietly opened the front door of 221B and slipped through, closing it gently behind him. He slowly climbed the seventeen stairs to the flat he shared with John and opened the door to the flat. He cast his eyes about and they were drawn to John almost instantly.

"Oh John!"

xxJWxxSHxx

John heard the door to the flat open but didn't move, after all, it was probably only Mrs Hudson. Sherlock was gone, probably never to return after what John had said to him.

"Oh John!"

xxJWxxSHxx

Sherlock flew across the room and gathered John in his arms, setting him in his lap. He gripped onto John tightly, rocking back and forth. Sherlock buried his face in John's hair, inhaling deeply, trying desperately to hold back tears.

John lifted his head up away from Sherlock's chest to look at his lover's face.

"Sherlock?"

The tentative, almost frightened, question broke Sherlock's heart. He never wanted to hear John sound that unsure ever again.

"I'm here John, I'm not going anywhere. I'm so sorry baby. I love you so much; I promise that I'll do better. You'll never be hungry for love while I'm off chasing things that I can give up. I'll lead you with strong hands, I promise baby. I'll stand up when you can't. I'll show you that I'm willing to fight for you and that I'll give you the best of my life. We'll finally be able to call this our home, I love you John and I'm so unbelievably sorry that I haven't done this for you before. I love you John, never forget that!" Sherlock took John's face gently between his hands and kissed him sweetly on the lips.

They pulled apart but stayed close, foreheads touching, breath mixing. John looked up into the beautiful blue-grey orbs of his lover and smiled, tilting his head to give him another sweet kiss.

"I'm sorry too Sherlock, I should never have asked you to change, I love you because of how you are. I love you too 'Lock, so much and I'm so, so sorry!"

Sherlock smiled down at John, staring deep into his shining blue eyes. He lent forward and kissed John. The kiss was slow and passionate, a promise of a future together. John parted his lips, allowing his partner's tongue inside. Their tongues met in a sweet dance, twisting around each other gently. Mouths were explored with a tender care. Eventually, air became a problem and they pulled back slowly, foreheads touching, lips centimetres apart. John gazed up at Sherlock,

"Forever?" a question.

"Always." a promise.

xxJWxxSHxx

Mrs Hudson opened the inner door of 221B, granting Detective Inspector Lestrade access. He entered, eyes scanning for a sign that the consulting detective and his faithful blogger were in. Mrs Hudson followed, gently closing the door behind her. Lestrade stopped dead, staring at something; Mrs Hudson followed his gaze and instantly melted at the sight. Her two boys wrapped in each others arms, asleep on the floor. John was in Sherlock's lap with his head resting on Sherlock's chest, directly above his heart while Sherlock's head rested on top of John's with his back against the armchair. A quiet click sounded throughout the flat and Mrs Hudson glanced at Lestrade just in time to see him putting his phone back in his pocket. He caught her glance and looked down.

"Christmas present." he explained. Mrs Hudson nodded her understanding and approval.

"Well Inspector, I'll leave you to wake the boys up." she whispered as she turned to leave. Lestrade hummed in acknowledgement. Mrs Hudson slipped quietly out of the flat, a small smile on her face, and returned to her own flat.

xxJWxxSHxx

_A.N. I was listening to Lead Me by Sanctus Real and this just suddenly popped into my head. Please tell me what you though, constructive criticism is always welcome! xxx _


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